The Path Less Chosen
by SerEndy.HauntingLove
Summary: What happened in Claire Bennet's life that turned her from perky cheerleader to stone cold killer? Can Peter keep her on the path she needs to be on? Or will she take the path less chosen and make the biggest mistake of her life? Claire/Peter Cesty AU


__Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes

A/N: This is my first Heroes F/F - I have been watching the series on Netflix & am just in love with Claire/Peter. This is AU - I'll develop the storyline & backstory as we go.

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**Prologue**

_All around her she could smell damp earth, miniscule pieces sticking to her back and cheek. Grass blades stuck in the honey blonde long hair trapped under her battered and beaten body. She had been drugged, preventing her body from healing itself. Hand shaped bruises on her upper arms were turning purple, her green-grey eyes widened in panic. She had stopped screaming what felt like an eternity ago though in actuality it had only been moments. _

_The man digging his knee into her abdomen had stopped hitting her for the moment, giving her a moment of hope. Horror filled her like a sinking boat as his knee moved lower towards her legs until he had forced them apart. She resumed begging him to stop, beginning her struggling anew. The harder she fought the rougher he got. _

_She felt the fire between her legs before she knew what had happened. She went slack. It didn't take long for the feel of blood to trickle from her most sacred area to pool around her butt. She began screaming again as loud as she could, knowing it was futile; nobody would come. One well aimed hit to the side of her head and she could no longer feel pain; could no longer fight back._

"Claire wake up!" The young girl woke up screaming, feeling how raw her throat was from screaming. She couldn't see through the haze of fear glazing her eyes over. She shook like a leaf as she attempted to wrestle her arm out of the grip of whomever was currently holding it tightly.

"Let me go!" Her voice was raised; shrill in a way it never usually was. It took a few moments for her to realize she was safe, that it was all just a bad memory of a day not too long ago. She was breathing slowly, bringing thoughts to mind to help clear the nightmare. Her father Nathan Petrelli was missing and presumed dead, her grandmother Angela was too grief stricken to do much but stay in her room. It was her uncle, Peter Petrelli, that sat next to her tonight on the bed, trying to calm her down.

"Claire, it's me, Peter. I would never hurt you." His voice reminded her of tires on gravel. It was soothing and familiar, wrapping around her like a warm shawl.

"Peter." Just one word came out as a whisper, her voice back to normal, her breathing still labored. Her hair was stuck to her sweaty body as she finally looked around the room. Her glance fell on the clock, telling her it was a little after three in the morning.

"Claire, I don't want to pry…" His voice trailed off as he looked at his frightened niece. There were days when Peter hated that he could see into people's heads, read their every thought. Today was not one of those days. The images he had seen in his restlessly sleeping niece's head was not something he would soon forget; thinking about it made his blood boil and a thirst for revenge he wondered if he would ever be able to quench.

"Then don't! How many times have you promised not to peak into my head Peter!" She knew her anger was displaced, she was mad at the man who had ruined her innocence, her view on life. She had thought most people with abilities were good people, but now knew she was wrong.

"I couldn't help it Claire. I couldn't wake you up. Who was it? You never focused on his face." Peter hated himself for asking and in that moment, Claire hated him as well.

"Get out." It was all she could say. Peter looked at the eighteen year old girl in front of him and sighed, knowing that he would get nothing out of her tonight.

"Goodnight Claire, remember, I'm right down the hall if you need me." As he walked out of the room she locked the door and slumped against it. This was not the life she had imagined when she left her adoptive family to live with her biological family. It was not the life she had imagined for herself ever.


End file.
